the tumult;
and although he mentioned the alarm which Lucy had received from one
of the wild cattle, yet he gave no detailed account of an incident so
interesting and terrible.

There was much surprise among Sir William Ashton's political friends and
colleagues on receiving letters of a tenor so unexpected. On comparing
notes together, one smiled, one put up his eyebrows, a third nodded
acquiescence in the general wonder, and a fourth asked if they were sure
these were ALL the letters the Lord Keeper had written on the subject.
"It runs strangely in my mind, my lords, that none of these advices
contain the root of the matter."

But no secret letters of a contrary nature had been received, although
the question seemed to imply the possibility of their existence.

"Well," said an old grey-headed statesman, who had contrived, by
shifting and trimming, to maintain his post at the steerage through all
the changes of course which the vessel had held for thirty years, "I
thought Sir William would hae verified the auld Scottish saying, 'As
soon comes the lamb's skin to market as the auld tup's'."

"We must please him after his own fashion," said another, "though it be
an unlooked-for one."

"A wilful man maun hae his way," answered the old counsellor.

"The Keeper will rue this before year and day are out," said a third;
"the Master of Ravenswood is the lad to wind him a pirn."

"Why, what would you do, my lords, with the poor young fellow?" said a
noble Marquis present. "The Lord Keeper has got all his estates; he has
not a cross to bless himself with."

On which the ancient Lord Turntippet replied,

"If he hasna gear to fine,
He ha shins to pine.

"And that was our way before the Revolution: Lucitur cum persona, qui
luere non potest cum crumena. Hegh, my lords, that's gude law Latin."

"I can see no motive," replied the Marquis, "that any noble lord can
have for urging this matter farther; let the Lord Keeper have the power
to deal in it as he pleases."

"Agree, agree--remit to the Lord Keeper, with any other person for
fashion's sake--Lord Hirplehooly, who is bed-ridden--one to be a quorum.
Make your entry in the minutes, Mr. Clerk. And now, my lords, there is
that young scattergood the Laird of Bucklaw's fine to be disposed upon.
I suppose it goes to my Lord Treasurer?"

"Shame be in my meal-poke, then," exclaimed the Lord Turntippet, "and
your hand aye in the nook of it! I had set that down for a